


The Orpheus Box

by Mice



Series: Moments Sacred and Profane [10]
Category: Stargate: Atlantis
Genre: Angst, M/M, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-10
Updated: 2011-02-10
Packaged: 2017-10-15 13:39:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/161334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mice/pseuds/Mice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the storm, Rodney and Carson have some issues. An Ancient device complicates matters for some of our favorite Atlantis residents.</p><p>Now with cover art.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Orpheus Box

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place about six weeks after _A Remote Important Region_. Shep has to be back in action after his owies in the last story for the events in The Storm and The Eye. As always, copious thanks to my betas Jenji and Abylity for their work above and beyond the call of duty. Abylity has an uncanny knack of saving me from myself.

_Lovers, if they knew how, might utter strange, marvelous_   
_words in the night air._

~~Rainier Maria Rilke, from _Duino Elegies_ , _The Second Elegy_ trans. Stephen Mitchell~~

Stepping in front of a loaded gun had never been Rodney's intention, but he found himself staring down the barrel, talking desperately, trying to convince a lunatic Genii officer not to shoot Dr. Weir or himself. Panic -- yes, that was definitely where he was at right now.

***

Carson could hardly think with Ford pushing at him to take off and fly through the storm. He'd hardly had any piloting lessons yet and, though he did well in the calm of a clear day, the storm terrified him. Much as he was desperate to get back to Atlantis, back to help Rodney and Dr. Weir and Major Sheppard trapped there with the Genii, they would be no good to anyone if they were dead. And dead was what they'd be if he was forced to fly in this.

He hated that he was a coward. He hated not being able to do anything to help Rodney or the others. The situation had sounded desperate when they'd spoken to the Major, but what could he do? His luck with Ancient technology was questionable at best.

There were moments when he wished he had Rodney's bravery, unwilling as it often was. Tragically, he was only himself, and so they waited in the howling wind with trees falling around them.

***

He was a lousy bluffer but he could lie when he had to. He'd never needed to more in his life.

Elizabeth kept Kolya off balance enough that Rodney could do what was necessary without undue supervision. She read his cues and played off his unspoken thoughts with a skill that astonished him. It was fortunate the Genii didn't understand Ancient technology or he'd be screwed even worse than he already was.

In truth, he was exceedingly screwed. So was the city. If Sheppard couldn't save them, they couldn't save the city, and Rodney wasn't sure he'd be able to pull his plan off alone. There was this slight problem of being only one of him. Even he wasn't that arrogant.

His arm ached like a blaze of lightning.

***

His hands were sweaty on the Jumper controls. The wind was ferocious and lightning flashed all around them. Their craft was battered and rocked by the force of the storm despite the inertial dampening and he held the controls more tightly, knuckles white with the strain. He did his best to stay on a steady heading but Ford's constant, angry 'encouragement' only served to unnerve Carson even more. He was terrified.

There were five lives in his hands and the Jumper was no scalpel.

***

Automatic weapons fire rang over the radio and Rodney's heart nearly stopped. The report that Sheppard had just killed three Genii soldiers gave him a small -- very small -- amount of hope.

***

Flying was a lunatic occupation to begin with. Flying in a hurricane was a task only a suicidal madman would undertake, but here he was. Ford was getting more strident by the moment, shouting at him, no longer even attempting civility. Carson tried to block it out, to focus on flying, but the wind was terrible.

He wished he were safe somewhere with Rodney -- that Rodney was safe and not a bloody hostage to heavily armed would-be nuclear bombers. It was all madness. He wanted to help but he didn't want anyone to die from his incompetence or the enemy's stupidity.

Landing. That would be the trick of it.

***

Rodney thought the rain would drive him nuts, if the pain in his arm didn't first. Weir was sitting with him, tucked under his arm as they huddled together, trying to stay marginally warm. He was going to catch his death of cold out here if he didn't catch a bullet from Kolya first.

He'd stepped in front of a gun for her. It was insane but it had been his only option. He hoped Carson was safe, wherever he was in the storm. He tightened his arm around Elizabeth and she huddled closer.

***

Landing had been just as awful as he'd thought, what with the wind blowing so hard. He'd barely made it in through the landing bay doors without scraping holes in the Jumper's hull. He'd grudgingly agreed to this taking orders thing as a temporary measure. He knew he couldn't keep it up for long.

The Lieutenant had no interest in anything he said and kept asking him things he had no reason to know -- like which naquadah generators ran what parts of the city. He was a medical doctor, not an engineer. Rodney was the one he should have been asking but Rodney wasn't here. That left a cold knot in Carson's stomach. What was worse, Ford kept blaming him when he guessed wrong and telling him to shut up.

If he were a fighting man he'd have taken a swing at Ford out of sheer frustration. Of course, it looked like Aiden was about to do the same to him. He hoped they didn't kill each other before the Genii got to them.

***

He was finally at the control console, the Genii invaders defeated. Rodney had always known he was a cold bastard. Everyone said so. And now he was going to fry his lover and one of his teammates to save the city.

Sheppard had told him to give them two minutes. He wasn't sure the city would survive it and it would mean no second chance if it failed the first time, but he'd wait. He prayed to gods he didn't believe in; prayed that Carson and Teyla would make it to the control room in time.

***

Carson's head pounded like drums as Teyla and the Genii woman dragged him into the control room.

"Carson," Rodney said.

"Rodney."

"Just in time to see how this ends, huh?"

He leaned on the console to keep himself from falling as his head spun. Rodney hit some buttons and shouted, "now!" and the tsunami passed around the city without so much as a slosh.

It was over.

Carson figured he could pass out now.

***

Shel Tuchman woke Carson gently.

The Genii woman, Sora, had hit him in the face with the butt of her pistol and left him with a mild concussion. McKay hadn't been able to do much but he'd at least made sure Carson got to the infirmary and had insisted that the incoming medical crew treat him first.

McKay had wrapped his own arm, doing a truly lousy job of it, but he wouldn't let anyone touch him until after he was certain Carson would be all right. He'd given himself some pain medication, which was probably why he didn't seem to care about his own injury. He'd been high as a kite and wandered off to find food.

The man was changing since he and Carson had gotten together. Shel found she liked the changes. He was almost tolerable these days, at least when what he was doing involved Carson. She was pleased that McKay cared enough about him to try to take care of him.

"Doctor Beckett." Carson groaned softly, his eyes fluttering. "Wake up, Doctor." She put a hand on his arm.

"Shel."

She smiled at him. "How are you feeling?"

Another muffled groan. "I've been better." He looked around. "Where's Rodney? He had blood all over his arm--"

"He'll be fine. We patched him up yesterday, after we saw to you."

"Yesterday?" He looked confused.

She nodded. "You had a minor concussion."

"Oh, right, right." He nodded, putting a hand to his face. "I remember now. Rodney managed to save the city. The shield worked."

"Everyone's home again but it's still pretty chaotic," she told him. He sat carefully.

"Where's Rodney now? What happened to his arm?" There was a look of concern on Carson's face. She put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

"I believe he's in the morning briefing with Dr. Weir and Major Sheppard."

"Och, I should be there as well." He started to get up from the bed.

Shel handed him his clothes. "Here, Carson. I'll leave you to get dressed."

"Thank you, luv." He took his clothes and she closed the privacy curtains for him.

***

Rodney wasn't actually avoiding him, but he was... avoiding him. It was strange and more than a little uncomfortable. He wanted to see Rodney's arm but, every time he got near, Rodney would say he had something to do or somewhere to be. Elizabeth had said he'd been tortured by one of the Genii but she wasn't certain what had been done to him. Rodney held his arm as though it ached badly but kept insisting he was fine.

There was something in Rodney's eyes that bothered Carson. A strange uneasiness haunted them that ate at the back of his mind. It wasn't just physical pain he saw there, though that was part of it. This seemed something deeper. Rodney was probably avoiding him because of what had been done and that gave him pause.

It took him most of the day to corner his lover. He finally got him alone in the corridor near Rodney's quarters. "Now," he said, "I want you to let me see your arm."

"It's not important," Rodney said, not looking at him. Carson touched it and Rodney jerked it away with a pained grunt.

"Not important? It seems like you need it checked again and probably some pain meds as well from the sound of it. You don't want to be getting it infected, do you?"

"What part of not important don't you understand? Just leave me alone!" Rodney turned and tried to storm off but Carson grabbed him by the shoulder.

"Just you wait, now. Elizabeth told me the Genii tortured you. I want to see your arm and I want to know you're going to be all right."

Rodney turned a shocked look on him. "Just -- just leave me alone, Carson." He jerked his shoulder away and hurried for his room.

Carson followed him, rushing to catch up. "Come on, Rodney, let me see you."

Rodney turned as he reached his door, leaning on it with his good arm. He radiated anger and his face was a pinched combination of frustration and something else Carson couldn't read. "You are an exceedingly stubborn man."

"You've noticed." He stood before Rodney, arms crossed over his chest.

"You're not going to leave, are you?" Rodney sounded exhausted suddenly. Carson shook his head no. Rodney gave him a bleak look, opened the door and gestured, letting Carson enter first. He followed Carson in and let the door close.

"Now let me--"

Rodney grabbed him by the shoulder with his good hand and shoved him back against the door. "I love you, god damn it!" Rodney's voice was rough and angry, more intense than he'd heard it before, and Carson had no idea what was going through the man's head. The kiss was hot and fierce and Carson was breathless in it.

It was a bloody strange way to greet him, since Rodney had been avoiding him all day. Not that he minded the passionate kiss. He started to wrap his arms around his lover but Rodney pulled back, a wild, angry look on his face. Carson stood staring at him, confused and panting.

"I can't do this," Rodney said, his voice choked and harsh.

Carson shook his head, trying to sort the seriously mixed messages he was getting. "Can't do what?"

"This!" Rodney waved his hand between them. "You and me. I can't do it."

Carson blinked. "What?"

"You understood English last time I looked," Rodney snapped.

"I don't understand, Rodney. What's going on?" He reached out to Rodney, who backed away from his touch.

"Do you understand what happened yesterday?" Rodney turned away from him and crossed his arms, wincing when he touched his injured forearm.

Carson stepped toward Rodney. "The Genii tortured you, but you saved the city."

Rodney refused to look at him. "Carson, I was going to _kill_ you." He choked. "You and Teyla. Sheppard ordered me to give you two more minutes. I was going to start the sequence before you got there. Hell, I _had_ started it, but he stopped me."

Carson stood, silent, letting that wash over him.

"I'm a cold fucking bastard, Carson. I wanted those two minutes in case I had to reset the system. If it failed..." He took a deep breath and collapsed on the couch, face in his hands. "As it was, if we'd waited five seconds longer we would have lost everything. We'd all have been dead anyway. You should get the hell away from me while you're still alive to do it. And now that you know what I did, you won't want to be around me anyway. It's best if we just end this now."

Carson was so shocked at the idea of ending their barely-started relationship that he couldn't make a sound. His mouth moved but nothing came out. Rodney looked up at him, devastated. "You see? Now you're not even willing to speak to me. Just go."

He shook his head and sat down next to Rodney, one arm around his shoulders. "Rodney..."

"Get out of here!" Rodney shrugged Carson's arm off and shoved, but he used his injured arm and yelped at the pain of using it, cradling it with his other arm.

"Please," Carson said softly. "Let me look at that." Rodney was hurt. He needed to see for himself.

"You're still here. Leave." Rodney was quieter this time, but looked like he'd been beaten about the head and shoulders.

He wanted to avoid thinking that Rodney had been willing to kill him, that Sheppard had ordered Rodney to give them more time. It was for the city, and if he were still in the halls when the time came he would have died whether the plan succeeded or failed -- he knew that in his head, but his heart ached. Despite that, he wasn't going to abandon the man he loved.

"What did they do to your arm, Rodney?" He reached out gently, taking Rodney's hand.

Rodney slumped back into his couch. "It's not important," he whispered.

"It's causing you pain, so I'd say it is." Carson carefully rolled up Rodney's sleeve and removed the bandages to look. There were three wounds, red and swollen and ugly, and he could feel Rodney's skin around them was too warm. "It looks like it's getting infected. You'll be feverish soon if this isn't treated again. Come down to the infirmary with me. You need to have some antibiotics and we may need to clean this out."

Rodney shook his head. "It doesn't matter."

"That's rubbish!" Carson snapped back at him, disturbed by the situation and fed up with Rodney's dismissals. "What happened?"

Rodney's face went pale. "They wanted to know how I was going to save the city. The guy went after me like a rabid weasel." His voice was soft and miserable and he shook when he spoke. "I failed, okay? I fucked up and they almost won. I almost killed you. Elizabeth almost got killed and the only reason she didn't was because I stepped in front of a gun for her."

Carson sat for a moment, stunned. "Oh my god." It was no wonder Rodney sounded irrational. "Oh my god, Rodney." His hand slid up Rodney's shoulder. Cupping the back of his neck, he pulled his lover to him and folded him into his arms.

"Carson--" Rodney tried to pull back.

"I'm not letting go, Rodney. Not over this." He held Rodney tightly. "We need to talk, indeed, but you'll not be rid of me so easily. I'm not letting you run at the first sign of trouble."

Rodney shuddered and finally put his arms around Carson. "I can't do this," he whispered. "I can't hurt you like that. You can't trust me. You shouldn't." Broad hands caressed Carson's back.

"Don't say that." Carson pressed his cheek to Rodney's, heart thundering. "What's happened has happened and we're both still here. Elizabeth is still here. Atlantis is still here. We'll get through this. I love you and I'm not letting you go."

***

X rays showed the Genii's knife had nicked the bone in Rodney's arm. Carson told him this had increased the chance of infection and in fact his arm had been throbbing like a son of a bitch since he'd come down from the pain medication late the night before.

When everyone had been coming back through the Gate and he'd had a chance to eat, he'd been completely looped on codeine. He'd felt the pain but really didn't give a shit. Hell, he'd been downright cheerful with Sheppard and Weir after Carson had been seen for his concussion.

They went through an excruciating process of reopening the wounds to get at and drain the growing infection and he'd nearly passed out from it. He'd let everyone know about his pain and displeasure, loudly and at great length. By the time Carson had stitched and wrapped them again, Rodney was ready to swear off anything involving sharp, pointy objects for the rest of his natural life. Part of him wondered if it was Carson's revenge for Rodney being willing to kill him.

He'd been remarkably stubborn when Rodney tried to break off their relationship. Carson wasn't having any of it, though Rodney couldn't understand why not. It wasn't like Rodney was any good at this whole love thing. Being willing to kill your lover, even if it was to save a city, didn't seem like the sort of thing people were supposed to do.

Maybe Carson was right. Maybe he really did need to talk to Heightmeyer. Sane people didn't act the way he had yesterday. Sane people tried to do everything they could to save people they loved. Psychopaths were willing to kill their lovers. Maybe he was psychotic and didn't know it.

When Carson was done with his arm, he'd said something about needing to talk to Teyla for a little while. Rodney wasn't sure if Carson was coming back afterward but he didn't want to go back to his quarters. Nothing really felt right and if he went there he'd just stew in his gloom and doom.

He found himself in the room by hydroponics where people sometimes went for impromptu music. The acoustics were really quite good. It was usually quiet there as well, the ambient sound of the room being conducive to just sitting quietly. He wasn't sure how the Ancients had managed that. It was something he meant to study one of these days when he had less pressing things on his mind than Wraith invasions and the impending destruction of Atlantis by the crisis of the day.

Rodney curled himself up into a chair in one corner of the room without bothering to turn on any lights. There was some ambient light coming in from one of the planet's moons through the Frank Lloyd Wright-ish windows, and it seemed to fit his mood.

Half an hour or so later, someone else entered. He looked up but didn't say anything. To his surprise, it was Erin Siwicki. She didn't turn on any lights either but sat by one of the windows. Something in her hand glowed and music started.

It had to be the device he'd given her. He'd finally found a brief reference to it in an inventory. The Ancients had simply referred to it as 'the Musician.'

The music didn't sound like any of the Ancient compositions he'd heard when he and Carson had been messing with it, or like any of the other things Siwicki had gotten it to play the times she'd demonstrated new things to them. These were more mood pieces, he thought, than any kind of formal composition. There were four and each was unique and filled with a different wash of deep emotions.

"What was that?" he asked.

She startled, then looked over at him. "McKay? I'm sorry. I had no idea you were in here."

"Didn't mean to startle you." He gestured toward her. "I've never heard those before."

She pulled the light in the room up just a little, but not enough to shock their dark-adjusted eyes. "It's something new," she said. "The Orpheus Box does more than just record and make music. I think it was meant for more than that."

"Orpheus Box?" He snorted, moving over to join her. "Leave it to an anthropologist. Don't tell Sheppard what you called it. He won't let you name things either."

"I think it's fitting," she said. "This thing is all about music and emotion. It's very _Sonnets for Orpheus_ , really -- erecting a temple within their hearing, and all that."

He shook his head. "Rilke. Figures." She raised an eyebrow at him but he ignored it.

"You know Rilke?" There was surprise in her voice and the angle of her body.

"I know a lot of things. For instance, I always knew you were weird. So what's this new thing you've discovered that it does?" New things fascinated him, unless they seemed immediately dangerous. Even then, they could still be interesting if seen from a safe distance -- preferably with plenty of armed men and a flack vest between him and 'interesting.'

She looked at him. "It's... I guess the closest thing I could say is that it, um, expresses something about an individual's personality through music when they sit with it. I'm not sure how long you were here, but the pieces I was listening to were from four different people. I know you're going to laugh at the concept, but it's almost like listening to their souls."

Rodney didn't laugh. Actually the idea intrigued him. "You can figure out what a person's like from the music they make?"

"I think so, yeah. Actually, that time I had you try to compose with it gave me the idea. What came out, that just seemed so... so you. I mean, not the face you show everybody, but what's hiding underneath. The order and, um... the sadness. The complexity. I would never have accused you of being a simple man, McKay, but I think I understood you better after I heard that."

A shiver of goosebumps ran up his arms at that. "I doubt it would have told you what a cold motherfucker I am," he said. He had no idea why he said it. Siwicki was sort of a friend, or getting to be, but not somebody he'd ever wanted to confide in. She knew about the music though.

She gave him a confused look. "What do you mean? You can be a total ass sometimes Rodney, but I wouldn't use those words to describe you."

"No, you're too polite." He looked at the Orpheus Box.

She laughed. "Fat lot you know. I'm an ex-sailor remember? George Carlin's seven words you can't say on the radio have nothing on me. I can curse people out roundly in at least a dozen obscure languages."

He looked up at her and twitched an eyebrow. "I'll keep that in mind next time I want to light a fire under the troops."

"I have some choice words for the bastards who beat up Radek," she said.

"I'm sure." He could imagine more than a few himself.

"So why were you hiding out here by yourself? This hour of the night, I thought you'd be somewhere sane, like with Carson. Shouldn't you be celebrating saving the city and keeping a roof over all our heads?"

He flinched. "No," he said quietly, "I shouldn't." He stood to leave. She reached out and tugged on the leg of his pants.

"What's wrong?" The question sounded sincere. "I mean, first you give me this shit about being a cold motherfucker, then you're not gloating about your current act of science-geek heroism. That's not like you at all. What gives?"

Rodney was torn. He hated talking to people about how he felt but she was Carson's friend and maybe she could talk some sense into him, get him to stay away so he'd be safe. He took a deep breath.

"I almost killed Carson yesterday," he said. "Deliberately."

Her eyes widened. "You what?" There was utter disbelief in her voice.

He nodded. "At the height of the storm, after Major Sheppard and Lieutenant Ford routed the Genii, there was a tidal surge heading for the city. It... I swear it was taller than the outlying towers."

Siwicki shivered. "My gods."

"We had two and a half minutes to get the shield powered up and operational. The amount of power from the lighting strikes was unpredictable. The halls, they're conduits--"

She nodded. "Yeah, Radek was telling me about the general idea while we were on Manara."

"Carson and Teyla, they hadn't made it back to Stargate Control yet. I-I didn't know if it was going to work, or if I'd have to reset the system for a second try. I was starting to load the sequence. Sheppard had to stop me. He told me to give them..." His voice softened to a whisper. "He ordered me to give them two minutes to get to safety. We... when they finally got to us, I got the shield up with less than two seconds to spare before the wave hit the city. I was going to kill him. Both of them."

She wrapped her arms around herself. "Oh man. Rodney, that's... that's awful, having to make a decision like that. Gods, I never want to be there, to have to make a choice between someone I love and a whole city."

He'd been waiting for condemnation, but he heard none in her voice. She reached out tentatively and took his hand. He started to pull away but she didn't let him. "I'm so sorry. Are Carson and Teyla okay? After that... just... wow." She looked him in the eyes. "I was going to ask if you're okay but that's a really stupid question right about now. It's pretty obvious you're not."

She shuffled a little closer and put her arms around him, just holding him. He stiffened but she didn't move. After a few seconds, he realized she wasn't just going to give him a brief squeeze and let go. It wasn't any kind of a come-on, just warmth, and he hesitantly returned the embrace. Eventually, it was even comfortable. He relaxed into it. A moment later, he started shaking.

Before he knew it, silent tears were running down his face. He was embarrassed and ashamed of himself. If Siwicki was aware, she didn't say anything. All she did was sit with him and hold him, rubbing his back gently.

"He shouldn't trust me," Rodney finally whispered. He hated the weakness of letting her see this, but there was no one else around. She'd seen him in similar awkward straits before when she'd had him use the Orpheus Box, but hadn't betrayed that trust.

She tightened her arms around him. "Bullshit," she replied. "You got fucked by circumstances. The fact is, he's alive, Teyla's alive, the city's safe, and we're all home again. Without you, none of it would have been possible." She let him go and looked him in the eye. "And if you don't start telling me what a goddamned genius you are sometime in the next ten seconds, I'm gonna haul your ass off to Heightmeyer."

"Oh no you don't!"

She grinned. "Well, that sounds a little more familiar, at least. I'm shocked you haven't commissioned posters telling everyone how you saved the day yet again."

"How many languages will I need to print them in?" He smiled back at her. He still wasn't convinced that he was safe for Carson to be around, but at least he felt vaguely better.

She laughed. "Eight at least."

"They speak more than eight languages here?"

She gave him an askance look. "You don't even want to know." She patted his back. "Go find Carson, Rodney. Talk to him. But don't give him this song and dance about not trusting you. Shit happens, man. Most of us survived to tell the tale. You _didn't_ hurt him. That's what counts, right?"

He wasn't so sure about that. "Siwicki -- Erin. I don't think he should stay with me. If I could do that, if I could make that kind of decision, how do I know I'm not going to hurt him or kill him the next time there's some kind of crisis?"

Her face wrinkled into a pained expression. "Rodney, what happened yesterday, it was extreme. Even out here, we're not likely to run into a lot of situations where you have to decide between killing your lover and saving the city. It's not like you're a psychopath. You're not going to turn on him tomorrow with a screwdriver and gut him like a trout because of this, okay? That's just not going to happen. You're a complete and utter asshole some days, but you're not usually dangerous to your friends. Thinking like that is seriously fucked up."

"I'm seriously fucked up."

She snorted. "Well yeah, everyone knows that. Most geniuses are. Join the club; there are a lot of us here. It's like a Mensa meeting gone horribly wrong."

That made him laugh despite the seriousness of the situation. He leaned back against the window. "I don't know. Maybe you're right." He tapped the Orpheus Box. "I'd like to hear more about this later. When are you heading back to the mainland?"

"Probably a week or so. Weir wants to keep me around until everything here is back to normal. That'll be a while." She shrugged. "I'd just as soon go tomorrow, help the Athosians get things put back together again. The settlement's likely to be a mess, if anything's still standing at all. They'll need all the hands they can get."

"Yeah, but we need hands here, too," he said. "There's a lot of territory to be checked for structural integrity and other kinds of damage."

Siwicki sighed. "Yeah, yeah. So I'd rather be somewhere with trees. I mean, Ancient architecture has its charms but when I got out of the Navy I kind of hoped my days at sea were behind me."

***

"He would not have done so if he did not think it necessary," Teyla said. She sounded quite reasonable, really. "And he did wait."

"Aye," Carson said with a sigh. "He did, didn't he?"

"The Wraith are a terrible enemy. The City of the Ancestors would seem to be our only hope against them. As such, it is of far greater importance than any of us. To risk it, even on the strength of love, is a fool's decision." She looked him in the eye. "I would have done the same, no matter who was left in the halls. I believe, under the circumstances, you would as well."

"Sheppard ordered him to give us more time." He tried to reconcile it with his knowledge that, in fact, Rodney had done the right thing.

Teyla nodded. "He did, and we are fortunate. But Major Sheppard acted against the best interests of the city and your mission. We also, when we were stranded on the mainland, acted against the best interests of the city and the mission. Like Major Sheppard, our act was motivated by concern for others -- his for us, and ours for the lives of the hunters."

She was more generous about his doubts and fears than he was. Much of his fear had been for himself, and for Ford and Teyla. "You are a somewhat more able pilot than you believe. It is possible that we could have gotten to Atlantis if you had been willing to attempt the flight as soon as the hunters arrived."

There was no judgment in her voice but he felt the weight of guilt no less. It was vaguely possible he could have piloted through the storm at that point, though even coming in through the chaos over Atlantis after he'd gone over most of it through the eye had been harrowing.

"I'm not so sure, Teyla," he said. "Landing was a near thing. You know as well as I that I almost put the Jumper down into the landing bay door. That could easily have killed all six of us." Just thinking about it, his hands were shaking. "I have trouble controlling the Ancients' things. I'm not like the Major. It's like some instinct for him. Me, I've got to struggle and concentrate for every moment of all but the simplest things."

Teyla shook her head and leaned against the railing. She looked out over the moonlit water. "You do not have enough faith in yourself, Dr. Beckett. I suspect it is your lack of confidence that inhibits you, not a lack of ability."

"I really only do well with medical things. I'm not much of a hand with the rest of what we do here. And I'm certainly no pilot. Sometimes I think if I hadn't got that bloody gene I discovered, I'd not be here at all, and maybe the mission would be better for it." He leaned on the railing with her.

The light on the water was almost familiar now, though it was eerily unlike moonlight on Earth. The planet's satellite was smaller, and it was one of two. Right now, he didn't think he'd ever felt further from home. He wondered what his mum was doing, and how she was.

Teyla turned to him. "You are denying your own worth. You have saved many lives since you have been here, among both your people and mine."

"And half a planet is dead because of me." It didn't matter what he did, he couldn't put Hoff behind him.

She laid a hand on his arm, warm and comforting. "As I have heard McKay say to you many times, you are not responsible for the decision of the entire Hoffan population. You tried to help the Hoffans. You urged caution and they did not listen. You cannot carry a burden that is not yours."

"I did that work, lass. I made that possible." His voice faded, roughening. "It's something I'll have with me until the day I die. I think I'll always be seeing Perna, lying in that bed, telling me how proud she was of that horrible disaster."

"You did not force her to inject herself." Her hand tightened on his arm, connecting him to the here and now. He put his own over it.

"No," he said softly. "You're right, I didn't. But it doesn't change anything, now, does it?"

She smiled at him. It was incongruous in the moonlight. "No. Nor does McKay's guilt." He stood and stared at her. "It is easy to see he cares for you very much, but he is afraid and does not seem to know how to express that caring. By attempting to push you away, I believe he is trying to shield himself from his guilt. It will only harm him if you allow that to happen."

"I know." Carson sighed and lowered his face, staring out at the moving waves. Rodney had already admitted that he always walked away before anyone could abandon him. "I'm not about to let him leave me. Not like this."

"It is good that you care for him. He has a great deal more strength and courage than he realizes but, at the same time, there is something in him that is... broken, I think. Be cautious and gentle with him, Dr. Beckett. He does not understand how much he needs you."

He'd always thought Teyla an insightful lass. She'd have to be, to lead her people in a place as dangerous as this. He'd seen Rodney's brokenness first hand and knew she was right, and that it went deeper than anyone suspected.

"Nor," she continued, "do I believe you understand how much you need him."

He looked up at her, surprised. "What, me?"

"Yes. You." With that, she took his face in her hands and touched her forehead gently to his in the Athosian gesture that seemed some odd, formalized equivalent of a hug. "Go safely, Dr. Beckett. I will see you tomorrow."

***

Carson came to his quarters that evening. Rodney almost wished he hadn't. Siwicki's words followed him -- _you didn't hurt him_. He kept telling himself that.

"Come on in." He watched as Carson sat on the couch. He was safe. He might be mildly concussed but he wasn't dead. Rodney told himself to hang on to that.

Carson looked up at him expectantly and held out a hand. "Come sit with me, _mo leannan_." He was still saying it, still loved him. Rodney sat next to him.

"So you're not going to cut your losses and go." It was half a joke, but only half.

One arm slid around his shoulders. "No Rodney. You'll not be rid of me as easy as that." He settled against Rodney's side and Rodney put an arm around him. It felt good. "You need to forgive yourself. You did what you had to, and it turned out well."

"I could have--"

"You didn't. Teyla and I are just fine. The city's fine. You're fine. If you really want something to fret over, you can rail about how I wouldn't fly the Jumper through the storm to come to you early enough to prevent you being hurt."

Rodney was surprised at that. "Carson, you're not a pilot yet. Flying through that storm would have been stupidly, uselessly suicidal."

"Aye." Carson sighed. "But convince Aiden of that. He was on me like a night hag the entire time we were on the ground. There were trees falling around us, Rodney -- great ones as big around as the Jumper. Flying was dangerous but staying was as well. I didn't know what to do. Major Sheppard, he told us to stay until it was safer. I was relieved, but I wish I'd been braver. I wish I'd been here in time to be of real help."

Rodney had seen the size of some of the trees on the mainland near the Athosian settlement. It would be like a house coming down on one of the Jumpers. "Those trees are immense. You could have been killed." He pulled Carson a little closer, not liking that idea one bit. "Besides, you were here in time to save Elizabeth's life. Sheppard told me what happened when you found him."

"I almost put the Jumper down partway over the landing bay door because of the winds. Nearly got us all killed anyway." Carson's eyes were far away now, his fingers tapping nervously on one knee.

"But you did it," Rodney said. "You landed." He hadn't really thought yesterday about how much danger Carson had been in from the storm itself. He only remembered hoping he'd been safe. Now he realized neither of them had been.

Carson closed his eyes. "It was a near thing."

"So was the tidal wave." Rodney let one hand move slowly down Carson's side. Carson turned to him and they held each other, each lost in his own inadequacies and guilt. "We're both still here."

He felt Carson nod against his shoulder. "That we are."

They were silent together for a while. He let himself feel how warm Carson was in his arms and listen to the rhythm of his breathing. It felt good.

"I don't really want to make you leave," Rodney admitted.

"I know." Carson's stubble was scratchy on his neck and then there was the softness of lips moving on his skin. He closed his eyes and leaned into it with a sigh.

"I just... I thought you'd be safer without me. I fuck everything up."

"No, Rodney." Carson's voice was quiet and deep in his ear. "Nothing here is safe. It's better we're together. At least that way we can take care of each other."

"Better," Rodney agreed. He wanted to hold on for weeks, wanted to never let go. It was stupid, but he didn't care. He'd come too damned close to losing the man yet again.

Carson shifted in his arms and made a soft sound. "You okay?" Rodney asked.

"My head's still throbbing from the clout that Genii woman gave me." He could hear the edge of pain in Carson's voice.

"Well, here." He let go of Carson and urged him to move until his head was resting in Rodney's lap, feet propped on the arm of the couch. "Let me do something for it." He let his hands move through Carson's hair, stroking and massaging gently. It had helped after the fire, when Carson had terrible headaches from his much more serious concussion.

Eventually Carson relaxed, the lines in his face easing. Rodney hadn't realized how tightly he had been wound. He smiled when he heard Carson snore.

***

Carson woke with a cramp in his neck. His nose was pressed into Rodney's thigh. That was a remarkably pleasant discovery despite the pain in his neck. Rodney was snoring manfully away above him. He wondered what time it was.

He rubbed at his aching muscles and noted that his headache was considerably diminished. The last thing he remembered was Rodney's hands in his hair, rubbing gently. They must have been asleep a good while. Rodney had a damp trace of drool at one corner of his mouth. Carson chuckled. He wasn't really awake enough to go back to his room but staying on the couch like this wasn't likely to be restful for either of them.

"Rodney." There was no response. He considered nuzzling at Rodney's crotch, which was temptingly close, but realized that wouldn't be such a good idea what with Rodney's past. He sat up. "Rodney." He brushed a hand against Rodney's stubbly face.

Rodney startled awake. "Huh? Oh, Carson."

"We really ought to get to bed, luv. I've a cramp in my neck from lying here."

Rodney blinked in the dim light. "Bed. Right." He rubbed his face with both hands and stared blearily at Carson. "Stay."

"I was planning to. Too tired for a walk back home." He yawned. "Almost too tired to get to the bed," he muttered.

Rodney smiled. "I'll make it worth your while." He didn't sound quite so much asleep now.

"Mmm. I like the sound of that." He smiled back and leaned in, kissing Rodney. Rodney's tongue slipped into his mouth and he moaned softly, waking a bit. Other parts of him were waking as well. Rodney's arms closed around him and he let himself fall into the warm sensuality of it.

"Bed," Rodney whispered, lips moving against his. Carson hated the thought of getting up, being warm and happy and still sleepy in Rodney's lap, but the bed was a far better idea than the couch. Rodney's hand found one cheek when he rose, caressing along the curve to his thigh, and Carson smiled.

They tossed their clothes aside and he watched as Rodney got into bed before him. He really did enjoy looking at his lover naked; Rodney was hard and the look in his eyes was pure seduction. A gesture from him and Carson slipped in beside him.

Rodney rolled on top of him, slow and deliberate, kissing him deeply. Carson moaned softly, wrapping his arms around his lover, twining their legs together.

"Oh, yeah," Rodney said, his voice quiet and muffled in Carson's mouth. "Love you. Want you." He sucked Carson's tongue, his mouth hot and devastating.

Their hands moved lazily, exploring each other's bodies. The hard heat of Rodney's cock lay against his own, silk and burning steel pressed against him. It was so good, just letting his hands slip across Rodney's skin. Carson could never get enough of touching his lover like this.

His head still ached, though not as badly as before. If they were careful he'd be able to make love. Rodney's fingers played in the hair on his chest, delicately tracing the roundness of his nipple. Carson let out a soft groan. "So good, _mo leannan_."

"I want to be inside you," Rodney said, intense.

Carson looked up at him. He'd offered before, but Rodney had always refused, saying he preferred to have Carson in him. He wondered what had changed but welcomed it. "Mmm. Sounds perfect, love." He'd not have to worry so much about his head, as Rodney could do most of the work.

Rodney grinned and kissed him hard. Carson gave himself up to it, gave himself completely to Rodney, loving how it felt to have fingers moving inside him. It had been a long time since he'd had a man in him, and Rodney's cock was thick and long. He was trembling by the time the head of it pierced him, opening him with a gentleness he hadn't expected.

"Oh, god, Rodney." The slow slide of Rodney's hardness into his body was intense and wonderful, and Rodney looked near ready to come just from that initial thrust. They panted together, moving slow and careful.

"God, Carson, love you."

Carson moaned and moved with Rodney, wrapping his legs around Rodney's back. It was so sweet. "Yes, more," he begged, his back arching as Rodney moved inside him. "Deeper, love." He felt so full, Rodney's slick cock thrusting into him slow and hard. He'd wanted this for a long time, glad to finally have him like this.

It was wonderful and he closed his eyes as Rodney's hot mouth devoured his throat. Rodney moaned and hummed against him, one big hand stroking his hard shaft as they moved together. "Mine," Rodney whispered, possessive and insistent, "oh, god, Carson, you're mine."

"Aye, yours." His heart sped, pounding so hard he could feel it in his head. Carson's cock throbbed in time as Rodney stroked him, thrusting harder and deeper. "Oh, Rodney." He felt Rodney's balls moving against his cheeks, fine hair soft and tickling. It was deep, exquisite pleasure.

"Need you," Rodney gasped, "god, I almost lost you." He could feel Rodney shudder as he thrust faster, losing control. "Can't lose you, just can't--" Rodney's voice broke and he moaned.

Carson held Rodney tight against him, moving with him in counterpoint. He needed this, needed Rodney. Gasping, he whispered, "I'm here, _mo leannan_ , _mo chridhe_ , oh god fuck me." Rodney's movements intensified, thrusting passionately, and Carson could feel how close they both were. "Love you," he groaned, barely able to speak, and Rodney bucked and shuddered and came in him.

"Carson!" There was so much love in Rodney's voice, so much need.

He shouted as he came, wordless, shooting in Rodney's strong hand. He loved how Rodney felt in him, moving in him. Their movements slowed, deep and intense, and Rodney held him, sweat-slicked and moaning.

"I love you, Carson. I love you so much it fucking hurts." Rodney was panting now, his voice rough with emotion. He kissed Carson with blinding passion, fingers digging into Carson's muscles, and Carson held on with all his strength.

They gasped together, sweating, fighting for breath as they kissed and came down slowly from their lovemaking. Carson ran his fingers through Rodney's damp hair, caressing his lover. "I'm here, love," he whispered. "I need you too."

Rodney lifted his face and looked into Carson's eyes, nose to nose with him. "I never want to lose you," he said, soft and serious. He raised a hand, still wet and sticky with come, to cup Carson's cheek. "This is insane, how you make me feel. I can't believe I can say these things to you."

Carson's hands found Rodney's face, framing it in the dark. He caressed Rodney's cheek with one thumb. "I'll not leave you, _mo leannan_. You're too close to the heart of me." Pulling Rodney's face to him, he kissed him gently.

Rodney shifted, starting to pull out of him, but Carson stopped him. "Please, love, stay inside me a while. It feels so good. I don't want you to move."

"I'm heavy. I should get off of you." He nuzzled Carson's ear.

"Lie on me," Carson said. "It's good. I want to sleep like this." He relaxed his legs, letting them slip down onto the bed, and Rodney lay there between them.

Rodney nodded. "Yeah, okay." He settled and let his weight rest on Carson again. It felt good to have him there, solid and comforting. He drifted into sleep, Rodney still warm and half-hard inside him.

***

Rodney ran into Siwicki again at lunch that day. She was sitting with Zelenka and Osbourne.

"Hey guys." He set his tray down next to them.

"Rodney," Osbourne said. Zelenka and Siwicki were both distracted, looking off toward one side of the room.

"Hi Geoff." He looked over to see what had their attention. Rodney grinned when he saw it was Carrie Madsen, one of the maintenance workers. He'd spent more than a few minutes ogling her himself, even though she wasn't blonde. She was, in fact, a statuesque brunette with short hair and dark brown eyes and lips he could swear would cause heart attacks if used properly.

"Nice," Rodney said. Siwicki just sighed and nodded. "She's not one of us, is she?"

"More's the pity," Siwicki grumbled.

Rodney shook his head. "I thought you had plenty of people to choose from?"

She snorted. "I haven't been laid since before Antarctica, man. Gods, I miss Goth girls in leather and velvet and lace."

"Mmm. Leather," Geoff muttered.

"You've been listening to Njal Tryggveson, haven't you?" Zelenka asked.

Siwicki looked at Rodney. "That man is such a pain in the ass. I tell him no, and suddenly I'm the whore of Atlantis." She looked back over at Madsen, a gleam of definite interest in her eyes.

"I wondered how that rumor got started," Rodney said.

She shrugged. "He saw that I'm an affectionate person and that I like hugs, and I've never hidden the fact that I'm bi. He assumed it meant I would fuck anything that moved." She gave Rodney a lopsided grin. "Well, there are days when I might, but Njal's not actually sentient, so that's right out. A woman's gotta have standards." Geoff chuckled. She eyed him. "Don't laugh, you're adorable. I'd do you in a hot second if you had the least interest in women."

"I can't blame you," Radek said, grinning. "Geoff is very good."

She gave Zelenka a look that would have started Rodney's blood steaming if she'd turned it on him. "You're pretty damned cute yourself, Radek."

"You want to borrow him?" Geoff asked.

"Oooh. Tempting." Her grin was positively evil.

Rodney was surprised. "You're joking, right?" He couldn't imagine that somebody in a close relationship like theirs would be serious about voluntarily letting a lover be with anyone else.

"No. Radek tells me if he's with anybody. He's careful, and he comes home when he's done." Geoff looked smug. "Besides, I know Erin. I'm not worried she's going to try to make off with him."

Zelenka smiled. "I know where the best man lives."

"Hmmm." Siwicki sidled closer to Radek. "Any interest, my dear?" She smiled sweetly. "Carson turned me down." Zelenka grinned and ran a hand down her back. She nearly purred.

Rodney stared at her, upset. "You propositioned him when you knew he was with me?"

She looked at him, appalled. "Oh, fuck no, Rodney. I don't do that to my friends. I don't do that at all unless everybody knows what's happening and it's okay. This was before you started seeing him. He turned everyone down. Well, everyone but you. Lucky bastard."

Geoff nodded. "Yep. You can say that again." He sighed, getting a far-away look in his eyes. Rodney realized that his earlier suspicions had been correct -- Osbourne _was_ interested in Carson. He wasn't sure how to deal with that. Then again, everyone seemed to be interested in Carson.

Rodney actually did feel lucky, when he got right to it. Carson was the best damn thing that had ever happened to him. He found himself feeling more than a little jealous and territorial, though, with Geoff and Erin making comments about his lover.

"How did he get to be so popular?" Rodney asked. "I didn't notice anybody trying to make time with me."

Siwicki put a hand on his uninjured arm. "Let's face it Rodney, you've never exactly been Mr. Approachable, even if you've had your appealing moments."

He was surprised she thought he _had_ appealing moments. Rodney had no illusions that he was a nice person most of the time.

"You have been known to be quite unpleasant on a regular basis," Zelenka added. "It does rather discourage attempts at getting to know you."

"People wanted to get to know me?" He sipped at his coffee. Curiosity was getting the better of him now. "Like whom?"

"You weren't so bad when we did," Geoff said. "You're actually a decent man under the ego and the defenses. But I think Carson's been good for you."

Erin squeezed his arm. "You actually can be likeable, you know. If you tried it a little more often, I think people would surprise you. I like you."

"Right." Rodney snorted. "You just want a chance at Carson."

She looked at him. "Insecure much?" Erin leaned back against Zelenka and he put his arms around her waist. She sighed happily and Radek smiled. "Geoff, did you want to try the Orpheus Box tonight?"

Rodney looked at her. "You're going to have him play with it?'

Geoff nodded. "It sounds like fun."

"It sounds like voodoo," Rodney said. Still, he was curious. He'd asked to talk with her about it last night.

She pulled it out of her jacket pocket and set it on the table. "Everything the Ancients do is PFM, Rodney."

"PFM?" Geoff asked.

"Pure Fuckin' Magic," Erin said. "It's what we always said in the Navy when we couldn't explain something."

Rodney shook his head. "Except that we can explain how a lot of Ancient tech works."

"Maybe _you_ can. Math makes me dizzy, and not in a good way."

"I could help with that," Zelenka said, a hint of seduction in his voice.

She snorted. "Sorry Radek, even with that kind of help I'm hopeless. I have to count on my fingers to balance my checkbook." Zelenka gave her a horrified look. "It's true. I'm hopeless with numbers over four digits. It's all 'one, two, three, many' for me."

Rodney grinned at her. "That's why I'm God and you're not."

"I thought that was because I was an expert in obscure languages, weird music, and strange plants, and you're an astrophysicist gate travel wormhole expert." She smiled.

He laughed. "Okay, that too. But anyway, about the Box--"

"Think of it as a glorified personality test," she said. "Fun and harmless, and maybe your friends can learn a little something about you too."

"Do I get to try this?" Rodney asked.

"Well, you sort of already have," Erin said. "But if you want to come along this evening, you're welcome. You think maybe Carson would want to give it a try?"

"I'll ask him."

Radek nodded. "That could be fascinating. I wish that I could do this as well, but the gene therapy never took."

"Still only people with the ATA, huh?" Rodney fingered the little device.

"Yep, as far as I can determine. But it doesn't have to be a natural gene, as you know."

"We should get some statistics on it," Geoff said.

Erin shuddered. "More numbers. You boys go for it. I'll play with the happy music thingies."

Rodney picked the Box up. "Happy music thingies. That's what I like about you, Siwicki; your scientific precision."

"Hey, you're the one who's always on my ass about 'squishy science' McKay." She giggled when Zelenka nibbled her ear.

"Get a room, you two." Geoff poked Radek's shoulder.

"I love it when he's being studly," Erin said, grinning.

"You think _you_ do?" Radek said with a wicked grin. "You have no idea what you're missing."

"I would if he liked girls."

Geoff screwed up his face. "Eww."

Rodney watched the byplay, amused. "I like girls." He couldn't believe he was flirting with her, but she seemed to approach it as a social activity rather than a serious attempt to find a sexual partner.

"You like dumb blondes." Erin shook her head. "As if Carter was dumb. Gods, Rodney, I can't believe you said that to her."

He rolled his eyes. "I am so never going to live that down, am I?"

"No," Radek said.

"Not even," Geoff agreed. "Hell, I heard about it in Antarctica within a day of the event."

Erin looked surprised. "Damn, the SGC has one hell of a gossip network."

"Best on the planet," Geoff said. "Especially where Carter's concerned. There's that curse thing, after all."

"Curse thing?" Rodney hadn't heard about any curse thing. "What curse thing?"

Geoff looked at him. "She didn't kiss you or anything, did she?"

"On the cheek," Rodney admitted.

Geoff got a worried expression on his face and hunched forward a little. "That may explain your precipitous bad luck."

"What?" That really confused him.

"Everybody she's ever kissed, at least that we know of, has died a colorful and rather spectacular death." Geoff actually looked serious.

"That's ridiculous!"

"There was a betting pool on Pete, her boyfriend, before we left."

"You're serious." Rodney was stunned.

"Damn, you SGC guys got all the best stuff," Erin said. "Since it was just on the cheek, Rodney, I think you might be safe. I heard it had to be a full-on lip lock to qualify for the death curse."

"You weren't SGC?" Rodney asked.

"Nah. I was with the University of Washington, but Dr. Jackson had read some of my papers and put my name in the pool. They sent me because I knew more ludicrously obscure languages than anyone else, and he said who knew which ones were going to be useful out here. Mariko interviewed me and passed along a recommendation to Dr. Weir."

"I wondered how you got in," Rodney said.

"You don't think I'm competent?" She seemed surprised.

"Nothing like that. You obviously are, it's just that your skill set is so strange."

"That's me from the ground up," Erin grumbled. "It's why I asked to be assigned as the cultural liaison to the Athosians. Not that I mind sitting on my ass all day translating Ancient texts and making inferences about Ancient culture, but the Athosians are a hell of a lot more fun. Half the sciences division seems to think I'm useless."

"Carson doesn't," Rodney said. "He said some of those plants you brought back from the mainland are going to be great sources for drug synthesis."

She looked relieved. "Oh, good. I was certain some of them would be."

"You're not useless," Zelenka said, "you're just useful in different ways than most of the rest of us."

She smiled and kissed his cheek. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Radek, _mój przyjaciel_. Keep talking."

"Mmm. _Bardzo przyjemny_." He nibbled at her neck.

"Oooh. Speak _Polski_ to me, baby."

Radek chuckled.

"You two really do need to get a room," Rodney muttered. "When are you going to be messing around with the Orpheus Box?'

"About seven-ish?" Erin said. "My place, probably."

Osbourne nodded. "Sounds good to me."

"Okay," Rodney said. "I'll talk to Carson and we'll probably be there."

***

Siwicki looked remarkably smug and sated when she opened her door for Carson and Rodney. Zelenka did too. He gave Rodney a wicked grin and laid a hand on her shoulder. Osbourne wasn't there yet. It figured. He didn't know if he was appalled or merely shocked that Osbourne had actually meant it when he'd said she and Zelenka could... well...

Rodney sighed, pleased that Carson was his and that it didn't seem like a particularly convoluted relationship, at least for one he was in. He wasn't sure what the logistics of Zelenka and Osbourne's relationship were, and didn't think he wanted to find out.

"Hey Rodney, Carson. Come on in." She was practically glowing.

Siwicki didn't have a living room in her quarters, just her bed, a small dresser, a bookshelf, a chair, and her desk. It was common for the lower-ranking personnel, though people were starting to look around other areas of the city for their quarters. He was hoping for a place with a balcony himself.

The bed looked like it had been hastily made and was quite rumpled. He tried not to think about it, though he had to admit he found her kind of attractive. He wondered what she sounded like -- god no, he could so not go there, especially not with Carson right next to him.

"Erin," Carson said. He smiled at her. "You're looking remarkably chipper this evening." Rodney hadn't told him everything that had transpired at lunch. He hadn't quite believed it himself.

She grinned broadly. "Why thank you. Come have a seat." She gestured to the bed and her chair. He and Carson sat on the bed. He tried to ignore the slight scent of musk still in the air. She tossed Carson the Orpheus Box.

"So you want me to be trying this wee beastie then?" Carson looked up at her.

"Yeah. Geoff's not here yet." She sat in her chair, leaving Zelenka to perch on the bed next to Rodney. He found this vaguely disconcerting. Zelenka had obviously just showered. His hair was still damp.

"What do I have to do?" Carson asked.

"Just get it to go green, then focus inward," she said. "Think of it kind of like meditation. It's okay to let your thoughts roam. That's natural."

"What if I break it?" Carson looked concerned.

Rodney snorted at him. "Please, Carson, it's not going to blow up in your hands. You've seen it used before. You've used it yourself."

"I don't have very good luck with these things, you know."

"It's okay," Erin said, reassurance in her voice. "I'm sure everything will be fine."

Carson nodded, still a bit uneasy, and closed his eyes, the little device glowing with coruscating colors in his hand. After a moment, it went green. Carson's face seemed to relax a little, as though he was aware of the shift in the Box's mode. It wasn't long before music started.

Rodney listened, curious. The sound was complex and multi-layered, shimmering with a sense of unease. Below was a baseline that seemed sad to him, though the main theme of the music was a sense of calmness and strength. Listening to it made him feel good. There was a beauty and order to it all, and after a few moments Rodney realized the sounds were largely a sequence of four notes, though the notes repeated through a range of about three octaves.

He wondered if Carson was sequencing DNA in his head. That would figure. Or perhaps that was just such a part of what Carson was that it came through in his subconscious. It was harmonious, though, and the sound just _felt_ like Carson. Was this what Carson and Erin had thought when he'd played with the Orpheus Box, trying to compose?

He moved a little closer to Carson and rested a hand on his leg. The music shifted, becoming more intense. There was something slightly erotic to it now, and Rodney jerked his hand away. The sound became regretful.

'Damn. In the wrong hands, that thing could be dangerous,' he thought. It definitely gave the term 'mood music' an entirely new meaning. He looked over at Erin, whose eyes were filled with curiosity. She seemed to be lost in the experience of listening, her mind moving almost visibly. He wondered what her music sounded like.

Carson's eyes opened. "So did it work then?"

"Oh, yeah," Rodney said. "I'd say so."

Carson handed the device back to Erin and she played it back for him. When the music shifted, she said, "That's when Rodney put his hand on your leg."

Carson blushed. "Oh, my." He smiled shyly. "The secret's out then, I suppose."

Zelenka laughed. "This was never any secret."

The door's tone sounded and Erin opened it without rising. Osbourne entered. "Sorry I'm late."

"We started without you," Rodney said. "You snooze, you lose."

He grabbed a seat on the bed too, and Zelenka tucked in close to him. They kissed as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Rodney shook his head, not sure he understood it.

"Your turn," Erin said, handing the Box to Geoff. "Get it to turn green, then just kind of let yourself go into a meditative state. It should read you from that."

Geoff looked at it then focused for a moment. It went green easily.

There was a sense of solidity to his music that Rodney hadn't heard in the other samples, as though Geoff was carved from living stone. The warmth and compassion in it didn't negate that image; it was like heat suffusing through red rock desert. The music carried confidence of a sort Rodney had never felt, and he found himself envious beyond words. How did such a quiet, unassuming man get to be that way? He'd always thought Geoff was a shy man from the way he acted.

Rodney decided he'd have to talk to Osbourne at some point and try to figure out what was really going on. There had to be some catch he wasn't seeing. He knew Geoff loved Radek. There was no question in his mind about that after seeing how he'd reacted when Zelenka had been injured. It seemed like Geoff Osbourne really had it together. He wondered why.

***

Back at Carson's place, they settled down for the evening. Rodney pulled Carson down onto the couch with him, tucking his lover's back against his chest. Carson sighed contentedly and relaxed, wrapping his arms over Rodney's.

"What was going on then, when you were letting the Box make your music?" Rodney rested his chin on Carson's shoulder.

Carson snuggled back against him. "What do you mean?"

Rodney thought about how to say it. "There was something... I don't know, nervous or uneasy, I think, about it at first. And there was something sad underneath it all. What was that?'

Carson sighed. "Ah, that."

"Was that about what I did the other day?" Rodney was nervous asking it. Carson had pretty much said he was forgiven, but that didn't mean it was over.

"About -- no, Rodney. It wasn't about that. You know how uneasy I am about all that Ancient technology. I was nervous, is all."

"But there was more to it than that. Underneath everything, there was that -- that sadness. What's bothering you?" He nuzzled Carson's neck and kissed him behind the ear.

Carson was silent for a few minutes, and Rodney thought perhaps he wasn't going to answer at all.

"That," Carson said softly, "is a good many things." He rested his head against Rodney's cheek. "I'm homesick a lot, Rodney. I'm afraid most of the time. It's bloody dangerous here, what with the Wraith and the Genii and technology that might as easy kill us as help us." His hands tightened on Rodney's wrists. "We don't know from one day to the next what'll happen to us, or if we're goin' to find some new terror waiting on the other side of the Gate."

"No," Rodney agreed, "we don't." If he was honest with himself, he worried about those things too, a lot. It terrified him, really. And he went through the Gate all the time. Carson stayed in the relative safety of Atlantis; he found that thought comforting. "I can't say I'm really homesick, but there are definitely things I miss."

"What do you miss, then?" Carson asked.

Rodney settled into the couch, getting comfortable. "My cat mostly. Big Macs. Sam Carter."

Carson chuckled. "It didn't sound to me like she would give you the time of day, love."

"Hey, she said I had a chance with her."

Carson turned to look at him. "You're a lying sod, Rodney." He smiled. "She's got some young lad she's seeing, and you're most certainly not him."

"Well, okay, so it wasn't _exactly_ like that."

Carson chuckled. "What was it, then?"

"She said I had a better chance when she still hated me," he muttered. 'That was embarrassing,' he thought.

Carson kissed his cheek. "It's just as well you're here. What would I do without you?"

"Apparently, anybody you wanted to. I'm surprised there's not a waiting list." Okay, so he was still feeling a little jealous and possessive. Maybe a lot jealous and possessive.

Carson sighed. "Rodney, I've no need for a waiting list. I've got you."

"To hear Erin and Geoff talk, you're the hottest property on the station."

Carson laughed at that. "That's incredibly unlikely. Besides, you've naught to worry about. I'm in love with you. I thought you'd know that by now."

Rodney held him tight. "I know," he whispered.

Carson sobered. "You worry, though."

Rodney nodded. "Yeah. It's not you I don't trust."

"Erin and Geoff are our friends, _mo leannan_. They'd not do anything to hurt you, nor would I." Carson's voice was reassuring. Rodney wished he didn't need it, but he did. "And you know Geoff loves Radek anyway."

Rodney twitched. "He does, yeah." He took a breath. "But I have to admit he confuses me."

"How so?"

"Didn't you think Radek and Erin looked a little... pleased with themselves when we arrived?" He wasn't sure how Carson would take this.

"They did, aye. What of it?"

"They'd just had sex, Carson."

Carson's fingers traced Rodney's wrist. "I'd wondered, but I wasn't going to ask. How do you know?"

"Because Geoff told them they could at lunch today."

Carson arched an eyebrow. "Well that was right generous of him. I hope they had fun, then."

Both of Rodney's eyebrows reached for his hairline. "Is that all you have to say about it? 'I hope they had fun'?"

"It's not really our business now, is it Rodney? I mean, if they were all in agreement, and nobody got hurt, where's the harm in it?"

Rodney wasn't sure what to make of that. "I... I'm not sure. I'm still trying to get used to this love thing, Carson. I don't think I could handle seeing you with anyone else. I don't understand how he can do that, how any of them can do that."

Carson shrugged. "You'd have to ask them. I think it's about trust, though. Geoff trusts Radek, and they both trust Erin. They're all close friends and they're not like to hurt one another. They know she's been lonely since she joined the project. I think it's just that they care for her and that's one way of showing it."

He hadn't really thought of it that way, and he wasn't sure if that had anything to do with it. It was another thing to ask Osbourne about.

"Rodney, don't worry about all that." Carson turned to him and kissed him. He sighed and melted into it. "You're here with me. Let's just be alone together, shall we?"

"Mmm. Yeah." Rodney started nibbling at Carson's neck. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad night after all.

***

Carson needed an afternoon break. His day had been stressful and frustrating. Bates' team had come back from a mission as mangled as Rodney and Major Sheppard's team usually did, and he had two people in the infirmary. He and Chandrapurna had been in surgery for nearly three hours on one of the anthropologists who'd taken a spear from an unfriendly native on the other side of the Gate.

With a sigh, he sank into a chair in the mess hall, coffee cup in hand. It was quiet there, at least for a few minutes. Things got a bit noisier when Erin came in. Several people entered with her, talking all at once.

He watched, half-listening to the conversations. It seemed they were all interested in the Orpheus Box. Erin was nodding and trying to set schedules for people to meet with her after her working hours.

Listening to his own music left him feeling like something deep about him had been revealed. The way the music shifted when Rodney had touched him had surprised him. Rodney's questions afterward were logical, really. He was sad and afraid here much of the time, and missing Earth. Certainly it was exciting in Atlantis, and there were good things about it -- Rodney being the best thing, in his mind. Still, given the choice, he wished he could at least visit home.

Nikolai Gasparov, one of the Novograd Twins, left the little cluster around Erin and came to sit with him.

"Carson," he said, smiling. "Good afternoon."

"How are you, Nikolai?"

The Russian shrugged. "Is same as always. I am spending my afternoon adjusting naquadah generators. Calibrations always to be done, you know. I have heard about Siwicki and her music experiments. What are your thoughts about it? Have you heard this yet, your music?"

Carson nodded. "Aye, it was interesting, no doubt. A bit too revealing, though, I think. I'm not so sure I'd want others to get their hands on it."

"But is only between friends," Nikolai said. "I would like to hear music of Viktor." He smiled shyly. "I know him so well, but sometimes I think it would be good to know what song his heart sings, yes?"

Carson smiled back at him. Listening to the music Rodney made that first night Erin had tried to get him to compose had revealed so much about his lover. "I can understand that," he agreed. "It's quite something, really."

"Radek, he says the music of Geoff is very strong."

"There was a warmth to it, though," Carson said. "He's a kind-hearted man, and you could tell from it."

Nikolai looked thoughtful. "I would like to see more into Viktor's heart. He's not so much for talking."

"Most people aren't, when you get to the heart of them," Carson said. "Rodney, you'd think everything was on the surface with him."

"McKay is always saying anything before his brain stops him."

Carson laughed. "Aye, isn't that the truth of it. But still, there's a good bit more to him than he lets people see. He hides more than you'd think."

"McKay is McKay. I have worked with him in Russia and he is not a man with many friends, so this hiding you say, it does not surprise me. I think he doesn't want friends, sometimes. I find I am very surprised that he is with you. Viktor as well." Nikolai tilted his head, a curious expression stealing over his face. "You're a good man, Carson, but this I don't really understand. Why is it you want him?"

Carson had asked himself that a few times in the couple of months since all this had started between them. "Rodney's a good man, too, it just takes a bit of digging to get there."

Nikolai nodded. "He is braver than I thought when I met him first time. More loyal also. I see he has love for you, but that was most unexpected."

"He's good to me, Nikolai. I think we're good for each other, though I know most folk would think that a bit queer." He smiled to himself, thinking about how good Rodney had been last night.

Nikolai grinned. "I hope he's as good as your smile is saying."

"Oh, aye." Carson's smile broadened into an answering grin. "Better."

One eyebrow went up. "It maybe makes up for how arrogant he is, yes?"

"It makes up for a great deal, _a chàraid_."

Nikolai looked up and past his shoulder. Carson turned to see what he was looking at. Kate Heightmeyer entered the room, approaching Erin. "Does she want to hear her music also, I wonder?"

"She hasn't the gene, so I don't know."

Heightmeyer sat down next to Erin and spoke with her for a few moments. Erin's eyes widened. She was obviously appalled by whatever Kate had said. "Absolutely not!" Erin snapped, drawing herself up to her full height. She bolted to her feet and stalked out of the room. Heightmeyer watched her leave, mouth still half open in astonishment.

"What was that all about?" Carson said.

Nikolai shrugged. "It must have been some serious thing. Siwicki doesn't do this for no reason."

Carson stood. "Well, I think I'd best find out." He walked over to join Heightmeyer. "Kate?"

She looked up at him. "Carson."

"What just happened?"

Heightmeyer shrugged. "I asked Siwicki about the device and she got very hostile."

That didn't seem like Siwicki, or at least what he knew of her, to be hostile over a simple question. "What did you ask her?"

"How it worked." She leaned her chin in one hand. "I mentioned that it sounded like it might make a good psychological diagnostic tool. She shouted at me and stomped off. She seems rather hypersensitive about the whole idea."

Carson put one hand over his face. "Kate, having been one of the people who's used it, I can tell you I wouldn't want it used for that. It's far too open to interpretation. There's also the fact that it only works on those with the ATA gene."

"I hadn't heard that part." She sighed. "Carson, don't be unreasonable about this. We could potentially predict impending psychological problems, or get to the root of longstanding issues with a tool like that."

"Or we could make unwarranted assumptions about the roots of an emotion that shows up in the music." That had already happened and he wasn't eager to see it occur in a therapeutic setting. He shook his head. "No, Kate, I don't think it's a good idea."

"So you're letting her do unmonitored psychological experimentation on the crew?" She frowned and leaned forward, giving him an icy look.

"It's not like that. People are going to her of their own choosing to satisfy their personal curiosity. She's making no diagnoses, nor any claims about it, and isn't even commenting on the results. Besides, she's an anthropologist. This is what she does -- she studies people and music and cultures."

"And when are we going to see her study proposal and her statistical analysis?" Heightmeyer's eyes flashed with anger.

Carson sighed. "You know it doesn't work that way. She's not with medical. She wouldn't have to submit a proposal to me even if it were a formal project."

"So has she sent a proposal to Dr. Sakai? To McKay? Either or both of them should have to approve a project of that nature by an anthropologist. She's messing with people's minds here, and she's not qualified."

"It's not a 'project,' Kate," he insisted, frustrated. "It's a pastime. A curiosity. This has naught to do with any formal project, and Rodney's tried it just as I have. She's using the Orpheus Box as part of her study with the Athosians, and she's working on a paper on Ancient culture as it's reflected in their music."

"I don't understand your reticence here, Carson." Heightmeyer's frustration was beginning to show as well, her volume rising as she spoke. "This could be invaluable. You're making excuses and ignoring the deeper implications. I'm not suggesting this thing be used without cause or permission."

"I'm trying to protect people from having their innermost thoughts invaded and misinterpreted!" He put his hands on the table and leaned toward her, trying to resist the urge to shout. He wasn't doing very well.

Heightmeyer stood. "Don't try to intimidate me, Carson. I'm going to Dr. Weir about this. She'll see the logic of it, even if you can't." With that, she stormed from the room. Carson watched her go then noticed the assembled crowd staring at him.

Nikolai came over to him, others in the group moving with him. "I think you are right. It's not a thing for psychiatrists to be doing. I don't trust others with this soul music. It's only for sharing with someone close." Several others echoed Gasparov's sentiments.

"I think we're likely to see some trouble from this," Carson said. "Kate's a stubborn one. I've got to go talk to Dr. Weir."

Nikolai nodded. "I shall go tell Siwicki about this. She should know."

"Aye, you do that." He headed for Elizabeth's office.

***

Dr. Weir's office was chaos when Carson walked in. Heightmeyer and Siwicki were shouting, Major Sheppard was standing next to Weir, shouting and waving his hands in the air trying to calm things down, and Rodney was glaring at everyone. Peter Grodin was standing near the door, looking like he wanted to flee the scene.

"Everyone shut up!" Rodney bellowed.

A startled silence filled the air as they all turned to stare at him.

"Thank you, Dr. McKay," Weir said. "Now, why don't we all sit down and attempt to discuss this like civilized human beings." She gestured to the chairs around the conference table in the next room.

Siwicki and Heightmeyer both started shouting simultaneously, pointing fingers at each other.

"If you two are done shrieking at each other like a couple of cats in heat," Rodney snapped at both of them. Siwicki went silent.

"--and I'm sure you can see that we can't have any unsupervised psychological experimentation being done on the facility's personnel," Heightmeyer shouted. She glared at Siwicki, who remained silent.

"Thank you, Dr. Heightmeyer." Elizabeth pointed into the conference room again. "We will discuss this. Right now I want everyone to sit down and then I will determine who will speak first. You will not continue interrupting when others are speaking."

Heightmeyer nodded, looking slightly sheepish. "Yes, Dr. Weir. My apologies. I'm just concerned about such a blatant dis--"

"Conference room," Elizabeth snapped. Sheppard stepped forward and took Heightmeyer's arm, leading her into the conference room and moving her to a chair. Everyone else followed.

Carson sat next to Rodney and Siwicki. Sheppard sat between her and Elizabeth. Heightmeyer sat on the other side of the triangular table, still glaring at Siwicki.

Peter looked over at Elizabeth. "Will you need anything?" he asked.

"Thank you, Peter, no. Go ahead and take charge back in the Gate room." He nodded and ducked out, the doors closing behind him. "Now," Weir said, "I want to hear from Dr. Siwicki about this device Dr. Heightmeyer is talking about. Are you, in fact, conducting psychological evaluations with it?"

"No." Siwicki shook her head. "Not at all. The Orpheus Box--"

"Orpheus Box?" Sheppard asked.

"An Ancient musical device," Siwicki said. "It records and plays back music. It can be used to compose. It produces musical notation. It can also be used to produce music reflecting the mood or personality of the person handling the device, if they have the ATA gene."

"And how do you know it reflects the personality of the person?" Heightmeyer asked. Siwicki stared at her, silent.

"I've experimented with it," Carson said. "Just the other night. I'd say it does give a bit of a look at one's moods and personality--"

"You see?" Heightmeyer said. "This device has to be turned over to me for the psychology department's use."

Carson continued, "-- but I don't think it should be used as a diagnostic tool at this point. For one thing, it only works on those with the ATA gene. This would be a discriminatory practice, at best. Secondly, we don't know how to properly interpret such data. And to be quite honest, Elizabeth, I don't think most people would want others to hear their music. It feels far too personal for use in a clinical setting, in my opinion. It's more the sort of thing you might share with someone who's close to you."

Weir looked at him. "You're recommending against its use."

"Aye. That I am."

"What about you, Rodney," Weir said, gazing over at him. "Have you got any experience with this... Orpheus Box, as Dr. Siwicki calls it?"

Rodney nodded. "Yes. I agree that the potential for misinterpretation is high, but I also agree with Dr. Heightmeyer that it's potentially useful. Dr. Siwicki hasn't offered any analysis at all of the data, from what I've seen. She's left that entirely up to the people who make the music. I wouldn't call what she's doing 'experimentation' in anything but the broadest sense. Certainly not formally."

Erin leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm not doing anything with the music, just letting people make it and listen to it. No one is hearing it that the creators don't want to. I'd say that it's a very intimate thing, Dr. Weir, and that if you heard your own, you'd understand why it's not a good idea to use this for diagnosis."

Weir nodded. "Did you get permission for this project?"

"It's not a project!" Siwicki insisted. She thumped the table with one palm, frustrated. "It's a curiosity. It's something I stumbled on and started playing with. I showed it to a few people, and then more folks with the gene decided they wanted to try it. I'm not compiling any data on this, nor am I doing any analysis. Even if I were, it's not Dr. Heightmeyer's responsibility to monitor me. I answer to Dr. Sakai and Dr. McKay here."

Weir nodded. "Rodney? You've said it's not experimentation."

"It is!" Heighmeyer snapped. "She's collecting psychological data on a number of our people, and it should be studied and recorded for future use."

"Unacceptable!" Siwicki shouted, lurching to her feet. "These recordings were made in confidence and I refuse to betray the trust that these individuals placed in me! You can't use any of the music without their permission!"

"Dr. Siwicki, sit down," Elizabeth said. Sheppard glared at her and she backed down, sitting quietly. "I want to hear some of this music, to judge for myself what should be done with it."

"You haven't the gene," Carson said.

"I can't let you listen to anyone's music without their express permission," Siwicki insisted.

Weir nodded. She looked at Carson and Rodney. "You've both experimented with this."

Siwicki shook her head. "No. I won't let you pressure either of them to prove some point. If you want to listen to someone's music, you can hear mine. Maybe if you hear it, you'll understand."

"Right, Siwicki," Rodney said, "you might as well strip naked and dance on the table."

She snorted. "Not like I've never done _that_ before." They all looked at her. "I had a savagely misspent youth," she said with a shrug. "What else is new?"

Heightmeyer stared at her. "I really think you should come in for a psych reevaluation."

"Not on your life," Siwicki growled. "I've been in and out of shrink offices for far too many years. I'll deal with my own head trips, thank you very much."

"Dr. Heightmeyer," Carson said, "under the circumstances, that request could be construed as an attempt to influence Dr. Siwicki's actions."

"I agree," Weir said. "However, I will take Dr. Siwicki's offer to let us hear her music so that we can understand what we're dealing with."

Siwicki nodded. "Understand that when the music is made, it doesn't reflect just the personality but also the mood. I'm a bit perturbed right now, and that's bound to come through."

"That's understood," Weir said. "Please." She gestured to Siwicki.

Erin drew the small device from her jacket pocket and held it. A moment later, it began to glow green. Carson found himself very curious about what she'd sound like.

The music had an odd beat, like something Balkan, perhaps. There was a rough undertone of anger and anxiety to it, swirling like pipes. Beyond that though, were tinges of loneliness and a sense of determination that moved with strength and depth. In the echoes of the Balkan beat were moments of quirkiness that almost made him want to laugh. Over everything was a warm sound, like flowing water.

Everyone listened with rapt attention. Even Heightmeyer seemed fascinated by the display.

Siwicki looked up. "Well?"

"I see what you mean," Sheppard said. "I mean, I get an impression of what you're like from it, but I'm not sure I could put it in words. Hell, I'd like to try that myself."

Siwicki nodded. "Thank you, Major."

"Would you be willing to do it as part of a data collection for the psych department?" Heightmeyer asked.

Sheppard shrugged. "Sure. I don't see why not. You people have wandered around in my brain enough already. One more time isn't going to hurt anything."

Weir nodded. "Dr. Siwicki, I'm going to ask you to turn the Orpheus Box over to me until everyone you've worked with has been contacted about this. Dr. Heightmeyer does bring up some valid points about the potential usefulness of this technology for the psych department."

Erin set the Box on the table. "I'd like to be on the record stating that in my opinion, this isn't a great idea. I think the potential for misinterpretation is very high."

"Duly noted," Weir said. "Thank you, Doctor."

"Are we done here, then?" Siwicki asked, curt.

Weir nodded. "For the moment."

"You do realize this is going to put kind of a crimp in my work on Ancient culture," she added.

Weir sighed. "Yes, Dr. Siwicki. At the moment, however, I think Dr. Heightmeyer's suggestion has more potential immediate use. You're all dismissed."

Siwicki rose, anger still evident in the set of her shoulders. " _Matkojebca_ ," she muttered. "She's nuts if she thinks she's going to get everyone to bare themselves like that." Erin shook her head, sullen, and hurried off.

Heightmeyer grinned broadly, shaking Weir's hand. "You won't regret this, Dr. Weir." She left quickly, striding confidently from the room.

***

"I've never seen her like that before." He heard McKay's voice before he saw them.

"She does have a wee bit of a temper," Beckett replied.

McKay snorted. "That was more like being 'a wee bit' ready to rip Heightmeyer's face off."

"She's not violent, Rodney. I've seen her angry a couple of times before. She'll go to the gym and work it out on a punching bag or something."

"She does that?" McKay sounded surprised.

"Aye," Beckett was saying as Sheppard rounded the corner onto the balcony. "She said something about wanting a baseball bat."

"Evening guys." Sheppard leaned on the railing next to them.

"Major," they replied in stereo.

He planted his hands on the railing. "What the hell is Siwicki so upset about? It's not like this is going to hurt anyone. Heightmeyer was saying she would make it totally voluntary."

Beckett looked at him. "I think it's got more to do with the fact that what she was doing was in confidence than anything else. I definitely think she's overreacting, but I do understand it."

"I wonder if she really did strip naked and dance on a table," McKay muttered.

Beckett slapped his shoulder. "Rodney!"

Sheppard wondered too, but he wasn't about to admit it. "Look, guys this isn't a big deal. How many people have the gene now, Beckett?"

"Thirty three," Beckett said.

"How many people had it when we first got here?" He really had no idea. Markham he knew about, because he was the second person trained to fly the Jumpers.

"Only seven," McKay responded. "It's damned rare."

"I didn't realize it was so few." No wonder McKay kept pulling him into the lab to touch things.

McKay nodded. "It won't be much of a sample, if you ask me. The number's too small to get any truly useful results, even if everyone volunteers. I know I'm not interested."

"Why not?" Sheppard asked.

McKay looked at him, annoyed. "Do I look like the type to strip naked and dance on a table to you?"

Sheppard covered his eyes with one hand. "Oh, god, McKay. Don't even take me there."

Beckett snickered. "You'd look right daft dancing on a table, Rodney." Sheppard looked at him as he grinned mischievously.

"Exactly my point." McKay leaned into Beckett a little and Beckett's grin softened into a quiet smile. Sheppard was pretty sure McKay wasn't conscious of what he'd done.

He hadn't really seen them together much except at meetings. It was kind of interesting, actually. The whole two guys in love thing confused him a little. He wasn't sure how a couple of guys dealt with the emotional stuff, and there had to be emotional stuff. It seemed to him that it was mostly women who wanted to talk about things.

McKay smiled back at Beckett and poked him with an elbow. "Though I don't mind the stripping you naked part," Beckett said. He sounded downright gleeful.

"Jesus, Beckett, I told you guys not to take me there." The image of Rodney McKay naked was so not what he wanted in his head.

"Shit, Carson!" McKay blushed. Sheppard didn't think he'd ever seen McKay blush before. "Stop that!"

"And why should I?" Beckett looked like he was having a lovely time baiting McKay.

McKay's eyes narrowed. "I know where you sleep."

"So?"

"You've never heard the term 'evil genius'?"

Sheppard snickered.

"Zip it flyboy. I know where you sleep, too."

"Hey!" Sheppard yelped. This wasn't in the game plan.

"I don't take kindly to people discussing my parts in public."

Beckett grinned wickedly. "So I'll discuss 'em in private." He had a downright lascivious look in his eyes.

"Parts is parts," Sheppard added with a grin.

McKay glared at him. "Don't look at me when disaster befalls you unexpectedly."

"You do have a rather nice bum, Rodney." Beckett didn't seem about to let up.

"Leave my ass out of this!"

Sheppard shook his head. "I don't want to think about your naked ass, McKay."

Beckett grinned at him. "I notice you're still here, though."

"That's because I'm curious."

"About what?" McKay asked.

"The two guys thing."

McKay rolled his eyes. "It's a simple matter of tab a into slot b, Major. I'm sure even your feeble imagination can handle the concept."

"Seriously." Sheppard looked at them both. "What is it that guys see in each other? I mean, how do you -- how do two guys do the whole relationship thing?"

"Why do you want to know?" Beckett asked, looking puzzled. One hand slid up to McKay's shoulder, rubbing gently. "You're not planning on asking one of the lads out on a date, now, are you? Peter thinks you're a fine looking man indeed."

He shook his head. "No, god no, nothing like that. I just really want to understand. Honest. And tell Grodin I'm not interested -- at all." He shuddered.

"Grodin's deranged," McKay said. "I mean, why would he want to deal with that _hair_?"

Sheppard ran a hand through his hair. "Oh, man. Not that again. What is it with you and my hair, McKay?"

"Seriously, Major, you'd do better if you stuck your tongue in a 220 volt outlet."

"Hey, I'm trying to ask a legitimate question here." He gave McKay a steady look. "Can't you at least try to take me seriously?"

McKay and Beckett looked at each other. McKay shrugged. Beckett looked back at him. "Come on by my place this evening. I'll talk to you if you like."

"Are you sure?" McKay asked. There was something subtly protective in his posture, something in the way he bristled and shifted his weight, as though he was worried Beckett would be hurt.

"Aye, Rodney. It'll do no harm." Beckett squeezed McKay's shoulder and McKay relaxed that same subtle amount that he'd tensed before. "God knows we need more people that're willing to understand and give us a little room to be ourselves."

McKay looked skeptical. "I suppose you're right." He looked over at Sheppard. "Just don't go flirting with him. He's mine." He tucked a possessive arm around Beckett's waist. Beckett looked just a little bit smug.

"Right, McKay. Like I'd flirt with Beckett. He's _so_ not my type."

"You were flirting with me. I'm not your type either. Something about having a penis."

"I was _not_ flirting with you! Not intentionally, anyway." He drew himself up straight. He still wasn't sure what that had been all about or why he'd done it. It had been a bizarre few days.

"Just as long as you don't put the moves on Carson. He might actually fall for the puppy dog eyes." McKay gave him a crooked grin. Maybe that whole evil genius thing wasn't so far from the truth.

Beckett laughed. "I've seen it before. You should see him in the infirmary when he doesn't want a physical after a mission."

"Cold hearted bastard," Sheppard agreed. "None of my best stuff works on him. And he always sticks the stethoscope in the fridge before he puts it on me."

"Just for you, Major," Beckett said, grinning. "Speaking of which, I need to get back to work. Patients to see, mice to study."

McKay nodded. "I have to go and make sure Kavanagh's not breaking anything. If he's messed with my stuff, I'll make him measure the particulate levels in the sewer system filters. Preferably with an eyedropper and a sponge."

"You really are evil," Sheppard said.

"It's a gift."

"See you for dinner?" Beckett asked him. McKay nodded.

"Later guys."

"I'll see you this evening, Major," Beckett said, and the two of them took off. Sheppard leaned back against the railing and sighed. One of these days, he might actually get used to the whole thing.

***

Heightmeyer looked up as Major Sheppard came into her office. "Hello, Major. Are you here to ask about the Orpheus Box?"

"Where the hell did she come up with that name anyway?" Sheppard said. "Nobody should let her name stuff."

"Please, have a seat." Heightmeyer smiled. Sheppard was a handsome man and had generally been pleasant to be around. She'd been pleased by his support in Weir's office earlier, and the fact that he'd volunteered to participate in the project.

"Yeah, I'd like to know more about this thing, but I also want to know what the hell was going on this afternoon. The shouting match was kind of a surprise." He put his feet up on her desk. She gave him a disapproving look. After a moment, he noticed and put his feet down, giving her a sheepish grin. "It seemed like Siwicki was tempted to go over the table for you at one point there. Not exactly civil discourse."

"Dr. Siwicki has some kind of longstanding problem with the psychiatric department." Heightmeyer sighed. "I'm not sure what the root of this problem is, but she's been uniformly hostile from the beginning. We've had several rather vigorous arguments since we met, and I can't say as I understand exactly why. I honestly don't believe I've done anything to provoke her."

Sheppard looked puzzled. "So if she's got some kind of problem with it, how did she get through the psych screening? Why is she here?"

She folded her hands on her desk and looked Sheppard in the eye. "She can be very moody. This isn't the first time people have had problems with her, either. If she didn't have a strong recommendation in her file from Dr. Jackson, she probably wouldn't have made it into the program. She does, however, have a unique skill set that we couldn't duplicate elsewhere. And she does have military experience."

"Navy, wasn't she?"

Heightmeyer watched as Sheppard shifted. He was apparently trying to evaluate Siwicki's reliability. "Yes. You can examine her file yourself if you like. You're cleared, as the ranking military officer, but I don't want to break confidentiality. Her record notes that she was something of a disciplinary problem while she was in service."

"That's not necessarily a bad thing," Sheppard said. It was true that such things didn't always translate into interpersonal problems. Sheppard himself had some similar notations in his file, but he seemed to be coping well with the difficulties they'd faced so far.

"No," she agreed, "but Dr. Siwicki has a history of reacting with overt and unreasonable hostility to both the psychiatric profession and what she refers to as 'inappropriate' displays of authority. I don't think she's a bad person, Major, but I do think she could be a liability to the mission if she doesn't deal with her anger and hostility in more productive ways."

"I see." Sheppard nodded. "I'll keep that in mind if I ever need her on a Gate mission."

"I think that would be wise."

He gestured toward her with one hand. "So what does this thing actually do? What are you going to want me to do with it?"

Heightmeyer relaxed a bit at the change of topic. "I'm not sure yet. We'll have to go over Dr. Siwicki's notes about it once we get them, and speak to the people who have used it in order to get an idea of how to proceed. But it may be a week or so before Dr. Weir releases the device to me. I'm not sure how long it will take to get permission from everyone who's used it. I suspect Dr. Siwicki may not be entirely forthcoming with a list of people she's experimented on. I sincerely doubt she'll cooperate."

"I'll have Beckett talk to her. He seems to know her pretty well. It seems to me they get along, and she respects him. She might listen to him where she wouldn't to you."

She smiled. "That could be very helpful, though Dr. Beckett didn't seem overly supportive of the project himself."

Sheppard shrugged. "Beckett doesn't like things that aren't safe and predictable. He'll probably be fine with it once you've got a proposal written and he can see exactly what you want to do."

She nodded. "That seems likely. He usually listens to reason, unlike Siwicki." She couldn't help the slight hint of annoyance that crept into her voice. She took a deep breath and tried to settle herself. "I'm sorry that our ongoing difficulties got so out of hand. I won't let it happen again."

"Seems to me you can't promise that unless Siwicki's willing to cooperate."

"That's true. But I can at least work to make sure I don't overreact when she gets confrontational. I don't have to participate in her dysfunctional patterns."

Sheppard smiled at her. "I think we can live with that."

***

Carson invited Sheppard in and sat with him on the couch. Rodney would be in later, but he wanted time to speak with Sheppard alone. He doubted Rodney would have much patience for the Major's questions.

He preferred people asking questions to misunderstandings and violence. There was no question that the Major was more or less all right with the situation but it seemed that he needed to understand it better before he could truly be comfortable. And that margin for comfort was what Carson wanted to see.

"So, Major, tell me why you're here."

Sheppard shifted uneasily. "I guess it's all just kind of hard for me to figure out. What guys see in other guys. Why it's you and McKay. I mean he's not exactly the world's easiest person to get along with."

Carson sighed. "No, he's not. But that doesn't mean he's not a good man now, does it?"

"Of course not."

"You trust him on your team, don't you?"

Sheppard nodded. "Definitely. I wouldn't want to go through the Gate without him. He's always coming up with some stupid, brilliant plan to get us home in one piece. He's saved our asses so many times I can't even remember. I'm sure he's got a list somewhere, though."

"Do you think knowing he's with me changes the way you see him?"

"A little," Sheppard admitted. He sounded uncomfortable with that. "But not in any ways that make a difference in how we work together. He's still the same guy."

Carson nodded. "And what about me?"

Sheppard looked thoughtful. "I'm not sure. I mean, I don't know you as well as I know McKay, doc. I guess it doesn't really make that much difference."

"What is it that you don't understand about this? I'm sure you know how relationships work. Why do you think it would be so different for Rodney and me, rather than say, Rodney and Dr. Simpson, or Dr. Weir?"

"I guess I just don't get the appeal. I mean, stubble. Dicks. Sweat. There are just certain things that are wonderful about women. They're nice and soft. They've got... legs. Curves. Soft, wet places. Tits." Sheppard waved his hands in the air. "I like tits." Carson laughed. "And you know, that whole penis thing bugs me."

"Nobody's asking you to participate, John." Carson smiled at him. "And I'm rather fond of women myself."

"What is it you see in him, anyway? I asked him that about you and he just dodged the question." Sheppard leaned against the arm of the couch, relaxing a little.

"Rodney looks like he wears his heart on his sleeve but he's really a very private man. He's not comfortable with people knowing his deepest feelings." He settled back. "He's always talked to me more than others but it's still like pulling teeth when it's important."

"I see."

Carson shook his head. "I don't think you do. What's your assessment of what Rodney did just before Teyla and I got to the Gate room?"

"He was pretty freaked. I had to tell him to give you some time." He looked uncomfortable. "I, um, you did know that, right?"

"Aye, I did. Rodney told me. But what you probably don't know is that he tried to break up with me after that. He thought I'd be angry with him for trying to save the city instead of us. He said he was a danger to me." Carson leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I'll admit I was upset, but I know why he did it and he had every reason to act as he did."

"I'm not sure I could be quite that generous," Sheppard said.

"You want to know what I see in him? I see a man who's doing everything he can to keep all of us alive. I see how afraid he is, and how brave he is despite it -- much more than I am. I could never do what he does."

He closed his eyes, letting his feelings for Rodney wash over him. "He cares so much more than he wants anyone to know. He's very afraid of being hurt, John, almost too afraid to reach out to anyone."

He looked up at Sheppard, who had an astonished look on his face. "McKay? Mister 'I'm the best damned thing in the galaxy'?"

"You don't see past that?" Carson asked. "Rodney's terrified to get close to anyone. That's part of why he's so rough with people."

"He always seems so confident. Well, except when he doesn't. I mean, then it's all 'the sky is falling and we're gonna die.'" Sheppard chuckled. "He does kind of freak out when he thinks we're doomed."

"I'll give you that Rodney's a worrier, but I think it's because he doesn't believe anyone values him for anything but his intelligence. Sometimes I think he's right and that folk take him for granted. But I don't."

"I try not to." Sheppard was sincere in that; Carson could hear it in his voice and see it in his eyes.

He nodded. "I know, John. You're one of the few, though. Most only see the surface of him."

Sheppard moved, leaning forward now. He looked into Carson's eyes. "Why Rodney? Why not somebody else?"

"We all need someone," Carson said. "There's no one else I'd rather be with. It's not like I've no choices, and I've always thought who you love should be about the person, not the package they come in. You don't know Rodney as I do."

"That's for sure." He smiled. "Not like I'd want to."

"That wasn't what I meant." Carson's face tightened.

Sheppard shrugged. "Rodney's okay. I like him. I mean I like him a lot, really. He annoys the shit out of me most of the time, but he's a friend. Things just wouldn't be the same without him."

"I'm glad." Carson smiled at Sheppard. "He needs friends."

"I'm actually kind of glad he's with you."

Carson was surprised at that. "Oh?"

"He... well... I think he's happier than he was before. You're a really decent guy, Carson, and he deserves to have someone who cares about him, somebody who can take care of him."

"Och, he'd resent the idea that he needs taking care of." Carson laughed.

"Yeah, but we both know it's true."

"That it is, aye." Carson sighed, a weight lifted from him. Sheppard really did understand after all.

***

"You talked to him," Rodney said. It was a statement, not a question.

Carson nodded. "Aye."

"And?"

"And I think he won't be asking more questions. It seems he understands a little better than he thought." Carson looked pleased and comfortable, so Rodney relaxed a little. "Did you hear anything further about what happened with the Orpheus Box?"

Rodney shook his head. "Not really. Weir still has it. I think she's been asking who's used it."

Carson nodded. "Are you going to let Heightmeyer listen to yours?"

"I'm not sure," Rodney said. "I'm not that comfortable with it." He stretched on the couch where he was lying and put his feet in Carson's lap.

"Nor I," Carson said. He looked uneasy. "I know the Major doesn't mind, but he hasn't seen it in such a personal way. He's not had himself exposed quite so."

"Geoff said he'd let her listen to his."

Carson looked at him, curiosity in his eyes. "Really?"

"Yeah. Seems he's way more of an exhibitionist than I'd ever have suspected. I wonder if he's ever stripped naked and danced on a table?" He chuckled.

"Somehow, I doubt it." Carson smiled. "Why? Were you wanting to watch?"

Rodney grinned. "Siwicki'd probably be more fun."

"I don't know, love. I think they'd both be worth watching." Carson's smile turned into an evil grin.

There it was again. Jealousy. "As long as you don't plan on doing anything but watching." He grumbled a little, not liking the idea of Carson being interested in anyone else, though he did feel a little hypocritical about the whole thing, being as he'd brought it up, and his own mind had been doing more than a little wandering.

"Don't worry, Rodney." Carson pulled his shoes and socks off and rubbed his feet for him. "It's you I want."

It didn't take long before Rodney's feet were warm and happy and no longer aching, and the rest of him got happy shortly thereafter. Carson had the most amazing hands. They didn't stay on his feet. He was glad for the fingers that trailed up his legs, relaxing and exciting him at the same time. He sighed as he leaned back and let Carson touch and explore.

Gradually, Carson moved so that he sat between Rodney's legs, still touching slowly and gently. His hands moved along Rodney's sides, up his belly and chest, down his legs. There were teasing strokes between his thighs, but Carson avoided his groin. Rodney moaned softly, just soaking it up, gradually getting hard from the contact.

By the time Carson was lying on him, kissing him, he couldn't decide whether he was deathly horny or half asleep. Carson was warm and wonderful on top of him, the kisses deep and seductive. Horny was definitely winning out. They didn't speak, only made quiet sounds of arousal and desire. The couch, however, was going to be utterly inadequate very soon.

When Carson moved to start nibbling on his ear, Rodney mumbled, "Bed?"

"Mmm." Carson kept nibbling. God, it was driving him insane, the way his lover's warm breath tickled and sent those delicious shocks down his spine to his cock. He shivered.

"Please," he whispered, pressing his body against Carson's. He was breathless with want. Carson's hips shifted, moving against his own, pressing back with a sweet heat that spoke of mutual need.

"Soon," Carson said. "Want to make you feel so good, _mo leannan_."

Rodney groaned. "You do. You always do." He pulled Carson's hips down and ground against him. "You drive me nuts. You should be illegal, you're so damned good."

"What do you want?" Carson's breath tickled in his ear again, and Rodney's cock jumped. The soft breath was quickly followed by a hot, wet tongue.

"In me," Rodney moaned.

Carson didn't answer, just licking and nipping his way down Rodney's neck. His hands slid under Rodney's shirt, caressing. They tugged at each other's clothing, loosening buttons and zippers. Hands explored under cloth and Rodney's breath came more quickly as Carson touched more and more of his bare skin.

Both of them half-naked, Carson's mouth moved on Rodney's chest and arms. He licked and sucked and gently nibbled everywhere he could reach, avoiding the bandaged injuries. The soft warmth of it was almost more than Rodney could bear and he cradled Carson's head as they moved together.

His own gentleness with Carson shocked him sometimes. He'd never felt such a compulsive sense of need for anyone before, or such desire. He laid kisses in Carson's hair, running his fingers through it, the spiky softness a pleasure in his palms. Carson's head moved lower, hands tugging at Rodney's pants.

"Oh yeah, please," Rodney gasped, as Carson's tongue found his navel. "Suck me."

He could hear Carson chuckle, a little rumbly noise. "Patience, love, it's on the agenda." There was a nip below his navel and he yipped and hissed with pleasure. Carson was on his knees in front of the couch now, and Rodney was hard enough to ache.

He was panting as he raised his hips for Carson to tug at his pants. One hot hand cupped his balls, caressing, and Carson was kissing the exposed head of his cock and Rodney's brain shut down. He closed his eyes and groaned loudly. Carson seemed to like that, because the next thing Rodney knew his dick was in Carson's hot, wet mouth, that tongue doing indescribably wicked things to him. He wanted to do them right back to his lover.

"Bed," he moaned again. "Want to suck you."

That actually got Carson's attention and he came up and kissed Rodney soundly. "Bed it is, then." He tugged at Rodney's shoulder. Rodney kicked his pants away so he wouldn't trip on them. Tripping was bad. Tripping would prevent him from getting laid. He couldn't have that.

They staggered over and rolled onto the bed, nuzzling each other, and Rodney started pulling at Carson's pants, wanting him very naked and hard in his mouth. He loved the way Carson tasted, the warm skin and salty fluid doing something utterly primal to his libido.

Carson's hands and mouth were all over him and they were both breathless. Rodney needed this, needed Carson. He didn't want to think about what he'd almost done, but it came unbidden, the image of Carson being dragged between Teyla and Sora, blood on his face. He pulled Carson to him, kissing the inside of his thigh, the scent of arousal grounding him in the present.

"Carson..." He licked at Carson's hard cock then sucked him in, making low, content sounds in his throat. Carson groaned aloud and thrust at him. He took in the thick length, caressing with his tongue.

"Oh, Rodney, it's good, feels good."

More thrusting and sucking and both of them were writhing together making barely coherent sounds. His arms were full of Carson, hands stroking his ass and thighs as he sucked. Scent and taste and touch all came together in one gloriously sensual synesthetic whole that left Rodney barely able to breathe from the bliss of it.

Lube had come from somewhere, and he so didn't care where as he slid one slicked finger into Carson. Carson moaned and shuddered, whispering Rodney's name, kissing his cock and balls. He was going to have beard burn on the inside of his thighs, but Rodney didn't give a rat's ass because it all felt so damned good.

They rolled together and Rodney found himself half on his stomach, Carson's weight on him, his injured arm propped up and resting. It was wonderful and he knew what was coming, anticipating the penetration and the fullness. Being in Carson's bed, having the man in his life, in his body, amazed him.

"Oh my god," he groaned as Carson entered him, "oh god, I love you."

"Talk to me, Rodney, I love to hear you," Carson gasped, thrusting deeper. He felt Carson's rough cheek against his own and rubbed against it like a cat, stretching, trying to get as much body contact as possible.

"Yes," he hissed, bucking back into Carson's deepening thrusts. He moaned and babbled, begging for more. Carson pounded into him hard, both of them sweating and gasping for breath. It was bone-deep pleasure to feel this, and Carson's strong hand stroking him in rhythm.

"Come for me," Rodney gasped, "come in me, please please--"

A few more pounding strokes and Carson did, shouting as his body spasmed around Rodney. He could feel Carson coming in him, his thick cock twitching as Carson stilled, panting for breath.

"Love you," Carson whispered. Rodney took Carson's hand in his, still wrapped around his cock, and stroked himself to orgasm with Carson still inside him.

Wasted from the exertion, he slumped. Carson moved slowly, folding him close in his arms with a terrifying gentleness. "Together, Rodney," he said softly. "No matter what happens, we'll get through it together."

Rodney chuckled, breathless, finally feeling it might just be true. "Carson, you're such a sap."

~~fin~~

**Author's Note:**

> Gaelic in the story
> 
> mo chridhe - my heart
> 
> Polish in the story
> 
> mój przyjaciel - my friend  
> bardzo przyjemny - very nice  
> matkojebca - motherfucker


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